


Sanguine

by jinkazama



Category: Tekken
Genre: Adopted Sibling Relationship, Birthday, Car Sex, M/M, Sibling Incest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-13
Updated: 2014-12-13
Packaged: 2018-03-01 08:45:06
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,596
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2766914
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jinkazama/pseuds/jinkazama
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Lee's birthday has him reflecting on his relationship with Kazuya.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sanguine

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Merci](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Merci/gifts).



> It's been seven months since I wrote anything for these two! Awful. I wrote this for Merci, after she prompted me with "birthday" for this pairing.

Ever since he could remember, Lee Chaolan had dreaded his birthday.

It wasn’t just that it was a mere month before Kazuya’s, and Heihachi would never give him even a tenth of the attention he gave Kazuya. Even if that attention was mostly negative.

It wasn’t that his presents from his family were perfunctory at best. There was the odd bespoke shirt, or the occasional set of platinum cufflinks, but they weren’t much different from the silk-wrapped gifts Heihachi sent to his cronies every year. Beautiful, expensive and well-made, but utterly impersonal.

His acquaintances – Lee refused to consider them friends – usually bought him something; sometimes jokey presents like a cigarette lighter that spat confetti instead of flame, other times something more thoughtful, like specially made knee high boots made from smooth leather that curved up over his calves.

Lee wore the boots, and toyed with the lighter, but he still wasn’t satisfied.

After all, he didn’t even know if today was his birthday. Heihachi had told him it was, and he’d been too young at the time to argue, but it didn’t feel like his birthday. It never had.

Shouldn’t it feel that way?

Already he was becoming dangerously mired in sentiment. Lee sat up on his bed and reached for his cigarettes. 23 wasn’t an important birthday, and Heihachi wasn’t even in the country. So why was he dwelling so much on it?

Lee inhaled and blew out the smoke in a short, sharp breath. Of course he knew the reason. Kazuya hadn’t mentioned it, hadn’t acknowledged a thing. He hadn’t been in the house since early morning, as far as he knew, but that was no excuse.

Last night Kazuya had been in his room, for the relief they never spoke of, and Lee had mentioned it to him. Kazuya’s dark eyes drifted down his bare chest as he thought, before they met Lee’s own eyes again.

“So what? Big fucking deal. Why do you care about this shit at your age?”

No, he shouldn’t have expected any better from Kazuya, but it still hurt. Luckily, eleven years with the Mishimas had prepared him for any insult, any sharp remark, because he’d trained himself to be indifferent. He practiced being hard, being emotionless and not caring, and often he felt he’d done so well that he forgot the person he’d been before.

But Kazuya had the ability to cut down all his defences with his careless cruelty, and Lee hated him for it.

He’d reached for the whiskey again and knocked it back, not oblivious to the way Kazuya’s eyes sparked with interest.

Kazuya moved across the bed to him, and stroked a rough hand between his legs.

Lee’s head swam with the whiskey and Kazuya’s attention, and he pushed his feelings aside as Kazuya’s dark head moved down his belly.

But that was last night. Now, in the flat light of day, the feelings had come back, and Lee hated himself for his weakness. And he hated Kazuya for being impervious to all his defences, for being the one who knew him more than anyone.

He’d been uncharacteristically withdrawn all day. He’d woken early, had _been_ woken by Kazuya rubbing his cock against him, and he’d found himself pressed into his sheets before he could sleepily mumble his brother’s name. It was a risk to sleep like this, but Heihachi had gone away, and this wing of the house was theirs. Lee always wondered if any of the staff suspected anything. Heihachi screened them ruthlessly, had them sign non-disclosure agreements, and they were terrified of Kazuya…but even so.

Lee found his mind wandering back to the subject as Kazuya dished out a ruthless beating in training, showing no ill effects from the night before. Lee tried his best, but in the end he was too hungover, too well-fucked and too distracted to make a better showing.

Kazuya beat him down and Lee raised his hands to signal surrender. Kazuya smiled mirthlessly, and turned to leave the dojo. Lee scrambled to his feet.

“Wait! What about breakfast?”

He’d never known Kazuya to skip a breakfast in his life; Heihachi always insisted that they feast after training, all the better to maintain the muscle mass that being a Mishima demanded. But Kazuya merely raised his right hand in farewell, without turning, and left the dojo. Lee bit back the angry words that came to mind. He’d learned the hard way how Kazuya treated vulnerabilities. He stormed off towards the showers, hoping the hot water could snap him out of this mood.

After that he’d been driven into Tokyo, for lunch at an exclusive restaurant with his friends. He plastered on a bright smile, and watched the snow drift down outside in lazy spirals. He couldn’t even muster up any enthusiasm for champagne. It bothered him that he was so put out. Usually he’d be in his element here, holding court and soaking up attention. All he wanted right now was to get away.

He got his wish, eventually. His friends had other matters to attend to, and picking up on his muted responses, one by one they slipped away.

Lee set down the water he’d been toying with – it was a _very_ bad sign when he didn’t even feel like drinking – and headed out to his driver to his first round of appointments. He was due to spend most of the afternoon and early evening being fitted and measured for clothes, and while he’d love every second of it most of the time, he really hadn’t been in the mood to go.

But Heihachi would know, and so he went.

Hours later, the sky was a smooth black sheet and there was a sharp bite to the wind. Lee shivered as he left the warmth of the boutique and slid quickly into the back of the waiting car.

Once inside, he lit up, and stared out at Tokyo, laid out before him invitingly. But none of its charms could tempt him today.

His mind turned back to Kazuya. He’d been trying not to think of him all day, and that only made it more difficult. It seemed futile to suppress his thoughts when he could still feel Kazuya’s tongue on his skin, could see violet bruises forming under his clothes.

What went on between them happened between the margins. They lived a high-profile life, scrutinised by all of Japan, and Heihachi watched them like hawks. Lee had wondered, back at the start, how long it would go on for. It wasn’t built to last, they both knew that, and it could never become known to others.

He’d said it to Kazuya a few years ago. Kazuya had had his back to him, dressing rapidly. He paused with his hands on his shirt collar, and turned.

“Why are you asking me this?”

Lee bit back the urge to punch him. Kazuya’s eyes were weary.

“This…keeps happening. I don’t know what to think of it, Kazuya.”

“So don’t think of it.”

Too much, he’d shown too much of himself. Kazuya gave him a hard-to-read look, and turned back to dressing.

He had taken Kazuya’s advice. Tried to compartmentalise it. It wasn’t real, he told himself. He kept going out with women, took them on dates, brought them home and fucked them. He was always hopeful he’d find someone, in the back of his mind, who could serve as a distraction, a disruption. More than anything, he hated lacking control, and this situation with Kazuya was too much to suppress long-term. He had to walk away from it, somehow.

But he couldn’t.

As much as Lee had tried, and he really had tried, he couldn’t shake the emotions, the raw cravings. He would sometimes spend weeks away, not seeing Kazuya outside training or meals, and their brief interactions were indifferent. Kazuya gave no hint that he missed Lee, or even noticed his absence. His cold eyes would pass through Lee as though he simply wasn’t there.

But afterwards, when it was all over, he’d slide open Kazuya’s door in the pitch black of night, and pad softly to his bed. Kazuya would grab him and pull him on top of him without opening his eyes, hard already. As though he’d known, as though he’d been waiting.

He hated Kazuya for it. Hated him for knowing his weakness, and for using it. He hated himself even more. As Heihachi had often reminded him, if he had no weaknesses, nobody could exploit them.

Eventually, he gave up. Loath as he was to acknowledge Kazuya’s hold over him, he couldn’t deny it. And he needed the relief their meetings brought them, and relished their secret. It was something Heihachi was completely oblivious to, and having this small victory over his adoptive father stirred vicious glee in him.

Besides that, he had come to realise that Kazuya, in his own way, needed him too.

He’d tried denial, he’d tried diversions, but in the end, Lee had to admit that whatever it was, it was real.

They’d reached the Mishima Compound. Lee nodded respectfully to the driver, and wearily hoisted himself out of the seat. The man drove off quickly, undoubtedly eager to be rid of his presence. He was so caught up in his own thoughts that he didn’t even notice the gleaming car right in front of the main entrance.

It took him by surprise. Lee stopped in his tracks.

It was beautiful. His eyes travelled over the flawless surface, a dark purple that he couldn’t have chosen better for himself. He could imagine himself driving through Tokyo, wind rippling his silvery hair, enjoying the raw envy of passersby in this machine. He looked for an identifying mark, and saw only the mark of the Zaibatsu.

He’d been stroking the beautiful surface, but when he saw the mark, he withdrew his hand, as if burned.

The Zaibatsu didn’t make cars. Robots, yes, and weapons systems, but never commercial vehicles – and the aesthetics were too sleek to be Zaibatsu-designed. Heihachi liked his products to be designed in his own image; big, bulky, and built to destroy.

Still, his hand found the gleaming handle, and the door opened for him. Casting a quick look around for Heihachi, Lee got in.

The seats were upholstered in buttery soft leather; the scent was intoxicating. Lee slid behind the wheel and adjusted the seat the way he liked it. He was turning the rearview mirror to take in the driveway when a pair of dark eyes appeared, and he turned around in shock.

“Kazuya!”

“Happy birthday,” Kazuya smirked, an unlit cigarette hanging from his lips.

“This was from you?”

Kazuya tilted his head and said nothing, black eyes gleaming malevolently.

“Kazuya. Thank you.”

Kazuya lit his cigarette with a steady hand and inhaled deeply before speaking.

“I spent enough on it. You’d better appreciate it.”

Lee watched Kazuya dragging on his cigarette, blowing out deep ribbons of smoke like a dragon. He couldn’t even complain about the smoke, the first thing he’d do in this car was light up.

He felt Kazuya eyeing him, and felt his cock firm against his thigh. _Maybe not the first_.

“Oh, I do, believe me,” Lee said softly, picturing himself pressed hard against Kazuya, filling the car with the scent of smoke and sex to mix with the leather. There wasn’t much space for two of them in the back, they’d have to be tight, controlled…

But they were still in the driveway.

He tore his eyes from Kazuya, and saw the key swinging from the ignition. He started the car, and marvelled at the roar of the engine beneath him.

Kazuya had remained in the back seat, sitting back, smirking at what he didn’t know. Lee felt torn between irritation and desire, hardly unusual, but there was an edge to the atmosphere he felt wary about.

They rolled smoothly up the drive and away from the house. Lee marvelled at how smooth the car drove, how it responded to the slightest touch. He could feel the sheer power of the engine beneath him, and wondered who’d been responsible for designing it. Kazuya had clearly not picked this car from a brochure.

The security gates of the compound opened for him; as Lee passed, he saw the guards peering at the car curiously.

They weren’t going too far. The compound was surrounded by a large forest and there were always multiple Tekken Force prowling around. If they kept to one of the margins, they’d have time and space. Going outside was risky, with the car being as it was. Later it would be fine, but Lee didn’t feel like drawing any attention today – especially considering what they were going to be doing.

The car glided smoothly to a stop, and Lee looked out at the deserted woods in front of him. Tinted glass, but he had learned to watch his back.

Kazuya leaned forward out of the darkness, and slid a rough finger down his neck.

“Come back here.”

Lee smiled, and turned to climb through into the backseat. No sooner had he leaned forward than Kazuya had grabbed him tight, hauling him through the gap between the seats, right into his lap.

Lee didn’t even struggle. It was all in the game they played, the sometimes vicious and sometimes hateful game, the only game worth playing.

Kazuya tasted like cigarettes, and his scent was hot and clean, mixing with the heady smell of leather. Lee shoved his jeans down one-handed as he rubbed Kazuya through his trousers, and Kazuya bent to bite his neck as he took Lee’s cock in hand.

Lee gasped as Kazuya squeezed him tight, and Kazuya broke away to smile in vicious triumph.

“Turn around.”

Kazuya moved back as Lee clambered off him with some difficulty, and turned with his back to Kazuya. The air was hot and all he could see was Kazuya’s dark shape behind him, waiting.

Kazuya came forward, without warning, and pressed Lee’s front half down flat against the seat. He yanked Lee’s jeans down the back of his thighs, and placed his hands on Lee’s hips.

Cheek pressed hot against cool leather, Lee started to protest, but was distracted by the sensation of Kazuya’s tongue inside him.

He moaned softly. Kazuya licked, insistent and urgent. Lee shoved himself backwards, but Kazuya didn’t push back or slap him; he only gripped Lee’s hips tighter.

Soon his tongue was joined by a long finger, probing, teasing, and Kazuya needed every ounce of his strength to hold Lee down as he murmured incoherently against the seat.

Lee had been teased sufficiently when Kazuya abruptly pulled away and rose to his knees; he pressed fully into Lee without preamble. Teased and wanting, Lee moaned, not caring about how Kazuya was running the show. All that mattered was feeling, and all he wanted was to come all over the handstitched leather seats of his beautiful custom car as Kazuya fucked him raw.

Kazuya was doing his best to uphold his side; Lee felt him grip his hips tighter as his hands grew slick with sweat. If he looked back, he’d see Kazuya’s hair begin to fall, damp from the effort. His breath was coming in grunts and moans, and Lee savoured the delicious sounds as his hands scrabbled at the smooth leather and he angled himself up so Kazuya could go deeper.

Kazuya leaned over him, solid and imposing, and pushed him down. Lee gasped as the breath was squeezed from him, but the angle allowed Kazuya to strike his prostate in the most delicious way. Fuck dignity. Lee lay beneath Kazuya, taking everything he had, and begged for it harder.

He couldn’t see Kazuya’s face, but he didn’t need to. Kazuya would have his teeth gritted in a sort of grim not-quite-smile; for Kazuya, sex was always about power. Nothing pleased him more than pinning his rival down in another venue, making Lee beg the way he wouldn’t in the dojo. Lee was tough and he could take the pain, and he could take Kazuya’s beatings, but Kazuya’s caresses were another matter entirely.

Kazuya came inside him, with a hoarse moan that raised the hairs on the back of Lee’s neck. He lay across Lee for a moment, heavy and unmoving, then he was sliding backwards, skin slick with sweat, and reaching under Lee to grasp his cock.

Lee gasped. He’d been focusing on Kazuya’s cock inside him so much that he hadn’t realised how close he was. His breath came out in a ragged gasp as Kazuya grasped him firmly.

“Kazuya, please.”

Kazuya’s long fingers were strong, and he knew just how Lee liked it. With his free hand, he turned Lee’s head slightly, so he could watch his face. Lee’s silver hair was hanging damp and matted in his face; he was red and sweaty. He didn’t care.

Kazuya must be loving this, he thought, but sensation was all that mattered. He felt his hair seized, and held tightly. Soon he was coming over Kazuya’s fingers, as Kazuya watched him, face unreadable in the dark.

Kazuya let go of him, and Lee slumped to the seat, now slick and moist with sweat and semen. He made a cursory effort to wipe it off. Kazuya laughed softly.

“It’s fine.”

Lee brushed his hair off his forehead and sat up, pulling his jeans back up in a bid to regain some control. He reached for his cigarettes and lighter, and drew two out. Kazuya accepted wordlessly, and they smoked in silence.

“Well,” Lee said after he’d finished, “that’s one way to get rid of that new car smell.”

“All that effort I put into obtaining this car for you, and you let me fuck you in it. Not very respectful to me.”

Lee looked at him sharply. Kazuya had his head tilted away. He was looking out the window, as he pulled on his cigarette.

“It’s my present. I can do what I want with it.”

Kazuya turned his head steadily, until their eyes met.

“Really.”

Lee nodded slowly, and fumbled for another cigarette. Kazuya extinguished his with a practiced twist of his fingers and kept looking at him.

His rough hand seized Lee’s jaw. Lee flinched slightly, but he didn’t drop his eyes. Kazuya peered at him, as though he was seeing something Lee couldn’t. The moment stretched.

Finally, Kazuya sat back and laughed low in his throat.

“Very good. You’re right. This is your gift. You can do whatever you want with it. Drive it into Mount Fuji if you care to.”

Lee smiled, exhaling.

“It really is a great car. Thank you, Kazuya.”

Kazuya tilted his head in acknowledgement. He sat back, bare skin against the smooth leather, and held out his hand for another cigarette. Lee lit one and passed it to him, and watched from the corner of his eye.

Now Kazuya was dressing hurriedly, long fingers smoothing his collar, brushing out creases. Lee eyed him lazily, not moving. When Kazuya was dressed again, he turned, and saw Lee watching him. He pulled on his cigarette and stared hard at Lee.

Before Lee could move, Kazuya had leaned forward, and was pinning him back against the seat with one arm.

“You went out for lunch today, with your _friends_. None of them could hope to do this to you. Could they? They’re weak.”

Kazuya let him go, and stroked the tight muscles in Lee’s arm. Lee watched his face.

“Strong. So strong. But not one of them knows what it would be to hold you down. They don’t know what you’re like. What you’re capable of. What you’ve been shaped to be.”

Lee opened his mouth to retort, then shut it again.

“I do.”

Kazuya was right. If anyone in this world truly knew him, it was Kazuya. They rarely acknowledged this, but it was this that had brought them together. The rest of the world envied them for their wealth, their position, but the world knew nothing about what went on behind the lacquered doors of Heihachi’s house.

And Lee had been brought to this house as a tool to torment Kazuya, a function he still fulfilled by virtue of his mere presence. Yet he’d ended up being so much more than that. He was there when Kazuya taunted Heihachi for appearing at a benefit for homeless children. Kazuya had actually pointed at Lee, and said “Look how you treated this one. And we’re supposed to believe you give a shit about homeless kids?”

Heihachi had backhanded Kazuya so hard that Lee actually heard Kazuya’s jaw _ring_. Kazuya had fallen to the floor, and Heihachi gazed across his prone body at Lee coldly, before calmly leaving the dojo.

He’d been humming as he left. It was then Lee recognised him as a monster.

Kazuya was stirring, and he opened his eyes and looked to see if Heihachi was there before he’d press a hand to his face. Lee watched him, frightened.

How young had they been then? Young, Lee recalled. Thirteen maybe. Too young.

He hadn’t quite grasped the depth of Kazuya’s hatred for him then, so when he saw Kazuya sit up, he crawled over timidly.

“I’ll get you ice.”

“Don’t.”

Lee started in surprise. Kazuya’s jaw was already starting to darken with a bruise.

“Kazuya…”

“Leave me alone.”

He remembered so clearly what he felt then. He'd been hurt, then angry.

“Fine. But you're not alone.”

Leaving the rest unspoken, Lee had turned his back and left Kazuya there. And from then on, there seemed to be a definite thaw in their relationship. It wasn't much, but it was there.

“Look at you,” Kazuya continued, snapping him out of it. “You could have anyone. And you do.”

Lee smiled, but he soon stopped. Kazuya’s face was serious.

“But,” Kazuya said, reaching to stroke the side of his face, “you’re mine. Never forget that. You could get married, for all I give a fuck, but you will never belong to anyone but me.”

He wasn’t sure how to respond to him; it was as explicit as Kazuya had ever been. He’d think Kazuya was fucking with him, but he looked completely serious. His cock stirred, and Kazuya looked down, and smirked.

“See? Your animal instincts know what your rational mind doesn’t. Mine, any time I want you. What are you?”

“Yours,” Lee replied without hesitation. Kazuya’s cruel face remained in front of him for a moment, then he was dropping to his knees, taking Lee’s cock into his mouth.

He was still sensitive from Kazuya’s rough hands, and he gasped. Kazuya’s lips were full, and tight around his cock. Lee moaned as his cock hit the soft back of Kazuya’s throat. His hands found Kazuya’s dark hair, and he tangled his fingers in the coarse damp strands as Kazuya worked him.

When he came, he felt drained this time. Like Kazuya had taken everything he had to give. He gasped Kazuya’s name, desperately, and he would have put money on Kazuya smiling as he heard him.

Kazuya lifted his head up, and Lee saw his pale throat move as he swallowed.

“Look at you. Easy, so easy. I should sit you on my cock and have you ride me until your knees buckle. But I have to go back. We’ve been here too long.”

Lee raised his head, feeling the weight of it. But he couldn’t let Kazuya assume all the control like that. He sat up straight and stared his brother in the eye.

“Maybe you should ride me.”

Kazuya actually laughed then, dark and menacing. He opened the car door and threw Lee a look over his shoulder as he slid his long legs out.

“Be careful what you wish for.”

The door slammed, and Lee slumped back against the seats. He reached for his cigarettes and shook one out. The smoke curled towards the car’s ceiling, and Lee lay there for a while, watching it form meaningless patterns as he lit one cigarette from the next.

He was startled from his stupor by a smart knock on the window.

Kazuya? No, Kazuya would have got back in.

Lee quickly pulled on his shirt and rolled down the window. A young policeman peered back at him. By the way his eyes widened, he recognised Lee from the papers. Lee rarely had occasion to curse his silver hair, but he did then. The officer might not have recognised his face so easily.

Then again, who else would be so careless in displays of their extreme wealth but the Mishimas? The pig was probably counting his Christmas bonus already, Lee thought sourly.

“Ah…good evening, officer.”

“Mr Lee,” the officer nodded respectfully, before gesturing to Lee’s dishevelled appearance. “What are you doing out here?”

“I got this car for my birthday,” Lee replied, wary. His mind was racing. How much evidence was in the car if they decided to search it?

“And you decided to take it all the way out here for a test drive? Why?”

Lee suddenly realised which way he could play this.

“I was, ah, I was entertaining.”

The young officer realised what he’d said, blushed in a most endearing fashion. Then he caught himself.

“And have you been drinking?”

“No,” Lee said, truthfully. Kazuya was more intoxicating than any alcohol.

“Then you’ll be happy to take this test, won’t you?”

“Gladly,” Lee said, breathing out into the breathalyser the officer held out for him. As he knew it would, the lights stayed off.

The officer nodded, satisfied, and looked him over again.

“You’d better get home, Mr Lee. Shouldn’t leave a beautiful car like this out here. You never know who might be lurking.”

“I intend to,” Lee said gravely. “Thank you for the advice.”

The officer turned to go, then stopped and looked wistfully at the car.

“Beautiful car, if you don’t mind me saying so.”

“Thank you.”

“Where did you get it?”

“It was a present from my family; beyond that, I’m not sure.”

Lee fell silent; so did the officer. He looked the car over one more time.

“Go on your way now, and we’ll say no more of this.”

“Thank you,” Lee smiled, relieved, and he waited for the officer to disappear before he rolled up his window and slumped behind tinted glass, hidden once more.

He started up the engine, and lit a cigarette one-handed as he forced himself to focus. Kazuya might be home by now, if that was where he’d gone. He rarely liked socialising with others, and certainly wouldn’t have done it voluntarily. It wasn’t that he wasn’t capable of doing it. Kazuya simply didn’t care about other people, and pleasing them or pretending to be interested in what they thought or said was complete anathema to him. He started up the car and began the short journey back to the house.

The car drew to a smooth halt. Lee sat back. The house was dark now, but there was a light shining from the centre window. Kazuya.

As if summoned by his thoughts, Kazuya appeared in the window. He was visible only as a stern silhouette, muscular arms folded, head at an arrogant angle. Lee looked at him for a long moment.

Kazuya’s harsh silhouette, austere and unforgiving, said _This is not a home, and we are not a family_. But the light welcomed him in, to the only place he’d ever belong.

Lee smiled and got out of the car.


End file.
